


For the first time.

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: I've had this idea for a long time -to write short stories of these two getting together.They are best friends, but pining for each other, and then boom. They get together.I don't know how many chapters this will have, I'll probably keep updating it according to my moods. The theme of each chapter may differ. Some may have angst or drama or more plot, but in all of them, these two will be kissing for the first time, and getting together.Feel free to leave me prompts for first kisses you'd like to see, and if I'm inspired, I might write them.





	1. Fifa and Self Doubt

Dele's bored. They finished playing Fifa a while ago, and Eric's sorta fallen asleep next to him instead of starting another round like he promised. Rude.

He should probably get up and go home, but it's only 9 anyway, and he can't stomach leaving without having the last laugh – Eric's beaten him 3-1 today, and that's just unacceptable.

Dele settles on his side and looks at Eric's sleeping form. The blue light from the tv is dancing on his face, and it catches on his hair with every little breath. He looks annoyingly cute. But mostly just annoying.

Dele pokes him on the cheek.

'Dier.' Eric doesn't wake up, just nuzzles towards Dele, a little smile on his face.

Dele just pokes him again – his cuteness won't win him any favors, not today.

'Dier,' he says again, louder.

Eric opens his eyes and looks around, confused. 'What happened?'

'Are you always this rude to your guests? You fell asleep on me!' Dele should know, as Eric's most frequent guest, that he does fall asleep sometimes, when he's too tired from training. (When Dele pesters him too much). It's not rude, really, but hey. Dele pokes him again.

'Can you stop doing that?' Eric says, rubbing his eyes. He sits up straight again and changes the channel, puts some foreign news program Dele's never seen before in his life.

'We're not watching that,' he gestures at the screen. 'You promised one more round.'

'You're down 2, Del. You can't win anyway,' Eric replies matter-of-factly.

Which, rude. Dele pokes him again. Surely he'll give in now.

Eric turns to face him, looking equal parts exhausted and disappointed. 'Fucking stop it, Del. I mean it. I'm not in the mood.'

And then he turns around again and watches his stupid news program again like nothing happened, even turns the volume up.

Dele sits there frozen. His throat has dried up and his heart is doing an unfamiliar, irregular dance in his chest. It's not that Eric has never told him off before, because god knows he has. This is not even the angrier he's been, but. He indulges him, is the thing. He says 'oh my god, Del, you're a pain in the ass, let's play Fifa again before you nag me to death.'

Not this time though. This time he told Dele off with a stone cold face and then went back to his stupid tv. And what's Dele supposed to do now? He came here to eat and play Fifa, and they've eaten, and Eric doesn't want to play Fifa anymore, so? Is he supposed to hang around while Eric watches tv? Eric seems to expect so. He definitely doesn't look pissed off at Dele anymore. Maybe he doesn't even care though. Maybe Dele has been too annoying today and Eric's just shutting him out to finally get some peace and quiet.

He's going to leave, then. That's what he should be doing, right? They have training tomorrow morning, and even if Eric is not mad at him he doesn't look like he particularly wants him there anymore, so he should probably go home where he can't annoy Eric anymore.

 

 

Dele disentangles himself from his blanket – the grey one that Eric bought for him – and stretches. Eric turns towards him, drawn in by the movement, and offers him a small smile.

Dele feels his heart do the conga again, and he decides he should definitely go home – he's feeling poorly and the sensible thing to do is get away from Eric (he often feels a bit poorly around Eric. It took him a while to notice Eric was the common denominator in all his seemingly random bouts of heart palpitations, and palm sweating, and knees going weak, but he noticed it alright.)

He clears his throat. 'I'm gonna go to the loo.'

Eric hums in response, doesn't look away from the tv. Now that Dele thinks about it, this behavior is probably his subtle way of saying 'we've had our fun, now fuck off.' Not that he'd ever say it this way because he's polite, but still. Dele knows he can be a handful.

He quickly goes to the loo and then finds his shoes next to the door, starts putting them on.

'Del? Can you bring me some water from the fridge?' Eric shouts from the living room.

Dele hops to the fridge with one shoe off. He wasn't gonna leave like a thief anyway, he would have shouted goodnight at Eric from the door.

Now he fills two big glasses with water, because Eric loves his water and will want more soon, and takes them to him.

'Thanks, mate.' Eric laughs when he sees both glasses are for him. Dele's done it before. 'No water for you then, Delboy? Gotta stay hydrated, Poch will kick your ass.'

'Nah, I'm just leaving,' Dele mumbles.

Eric turns his full attention on him then. 'Why? It's still very early.'

'Well, the training....' he trails off.

'What about it?' Eric cocks his head at him, amused.

'What about it – Dier, we have training in the morning.'

'I'm not following.'

'Yeah, cause you're thick.'

Eric rolls his eyes at that. Okay, it was a low blow.

'Del, what's up? Is this cause I won't play Fifa with you? Come on man, I'm tired. Plus I don't understand why you want to be crushed again.'

'As if. I'd crush _you_. But I just – you know.' He gestures around vaguely.

Eric gets up and walks to him. It's disconcerting, how he's not letting this go. Almost everyone else in Dele's life wouldn't even notice that he was upset, but Eric would. He does.

'Okay seriously, what's up? You've been quiet for the past twenty minutes.' He places his hand on Dele's right shoulder and squeezes.

'I was just – you wanted to be left alone.' Eric raises his eyebrow. 'To watch your news.'

'Since when do you care about letting me watch anything without interruption?' Eric says, and he says it like the most natural thing in the world – like the sky is blue and Dele is a fucking nuisance and – why? Why does Eric even keep him around?

'Am I that horrible?' He's not looking at Eric's face, he can't, zooms in on his socks that have pink dinosaurs on them, the ones Dele bought him for Christmas. He can feel himself start shaking a bit, the dinosaurs blurring and dancing in his vision.

Eric lifts his head up, stares into his eyes until Dele's forced to look back at him. 'You're not horrible.' He cups his cheek. 'You're not.'

He looks like he really believes it.

'I poked you in the face,' Dele says, lamely.

'Yeah, that was very annoying.'

'See? So I'm annoying. And I should just leave -'

'Del, come on! You were being a prick, what am I supposed to do, take it without complaint? It's not that deep, I told you to stop, and you stopped, and I don't get why you've got all emo about -'

'Because I'm an idiot! I'm an idiot and I drive you mad and I don't know why you put up with me and I don't get -'

'For fuck's sake,' Eric huffs, and he leans in and kisses Dele on the lips.

It's a firm press of the lips that effectively shuts him up, and then he pulls away, but he doesn't go far, because he lets his forehead fall on Dele's, and then he's pressing in again, and Dele thinks he might be frozen or maybe he might be shaking like a leaf during an f3 tornado, but then Eric coaxes his lips open and Dele doesn't think anymore.

He just moves, and Eric moves with him in perfect sync, and it's gentle and it's slow and it's sweet and then his tears catch up to them and he can taste the salt on Eric's lips, and Eric presses his entire body close to Dele's and Dele moves his hands underneath his shirt, touches the warm skin and tries to remember how to breath.

He has no concept of how much time passes like this, standing on Eric's expensive carpet with one shoe, clinging to him with tears in his eyes and witnessing his life change at the speed of a dream.

Eventually, they pull away.

Eric cradles his face with both hands now, looks and looks and looks at him for what feels like an age, and Dele feels off kilter again, like he's just jumped off a plane and Eric was meant to be his parachute but he has no idea if Eric will _open_ , if Eric will save his life, and then Eric leans in again, kisses him once, twice, three times, and offers him a dazzling smile.

'God, you're so annoying,' he says, hands caressing Dele's cheeks.

Dele huffs, trying to keep his smile from swallowing his entire face. 'Sending me mixed signals there mate. Make up your mind.'

'I have,' Eric says. 'Come annoy me some more.' He pulls him down to the sofa.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't even proof-read this chapter. I wrote it all in one go and was eager to post it, to start this new fic idea.
> 
> I will most definitely proof read it tomorrow and maybe make corrections/changes. But the gist is here. 
> 
> The idea, if it wasn't clear, was for Dele to feel a bit insecure and like Eric was mostly tolerating him, but I don't know how that came across. And of course, that wasn't the case.
> 
> Anyway. I have no idea what this is. I just know I'm excited to think up a lot of different ways they could have their first kiss, and I can't wait to write more! Thanks for reading and let me know about any typos/mistakes and all that.


	2. Culmination

Dele breathes in the fresh air for one last time, then stumbles back inside the club. He's not drunk, not really, but his head is buzzing in a pleasant way.

Everyone else stayed at the place they're renting, nursing terrible sunburns and throbbing headaches from last night's drinking. Eric and he were the only ones in the mood (and state) for some partying. Dele looks around for him now, but a quick search wields no results. The place is quite small, and packed, the way most of these Greek island clubs are.

He has a mind to go back out and just breathe, as the crowd is becoming a bit too much for him, until he spots Eric in a corner. He's talking to a large group of what looks like foreigners, probably Norwegian or something. That seems like a typical drunk Eric thing to do. What's not typical is the fact that a man has his arm wrapped around Eric's waist. The way his shirt is crinkled tells Dele the man is holding him way too tightly for the gesture to be friendly.

Dele frowns and shakes his head to clear the fog in his brain. He looks again, but everything looks exactly like before. Smiley Eric, looking a bit tipsier than when he left him but still sober enough, and a guy wrapped around him like an octopus. Happy Eric, who doesn't seem bothered by this at all.

He stares at them, trying to get a good look at the man and see what the fuss is all about – why Eric is letting him hold him like that. Then a woman in a sparkly red dress gets in the way, and Dele's brain decides the man is short, ugly, and boring. And ugly. Also very, very short. The thought makes him giggle, until the woman moves again and he can see the world's most boring man whisper in Eric's ear. _His_ Eric's ear. (Don't get him wrong. Eric is his _best friend_. That's what he means. They went out on the town to have fun as best friends, and this ugly man is _ruining_ it. Before Dele stepped out to call his brother, Eric had his full attention on him. But leave Eric alone for five minutes and annoying strangers flock to him and smile at him and _cling_ to him and - )

Dele's throat suddenly feels very dry. He steps on a few toes in his rush to get to the bar – he needs a drink, now. He doesn't have time to wait for anything fancy. He gets a shot of vodka and downs it, noticing Eric looking his way as he sets it on the wooden bar. Eric waves and beckons him to his new group of friends, that man's arm still wrapped around him.

Dele starts making his way towards them, annoyed that he'll have to play nice with that ugly octopus panda that's stealing his Eric. He's not drunk enough to justify being a dick instead, dammit.

But then the octopus panda koala smiles as he extends his free hand and fixes a stray lock of Eric's beautiful hair behind his ear, and Dele turns around and heads straight for the loo instead.

Straight being a figurative word, in more ways than one. He feels nauseous, for one, thinks the shot might be getting to him, and for another he has to squeeze his way through a sea of panting bodies to get to his destination. He thinks there might a be a third, another _something_ , but – what was he thinking, again?

 

 

There are three stalls in the men's, only one of them occupied, and Dele gets in one to pee, giggling, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He thinks he's made a mess, but he doesn't care. The stall next to him empties, and Dele gets out to wash his hands.

Eric gets in as he's splashing water on his face, looking all concerned. Dele feels a very peculiar urge to punch him, and wonders if the barman put something funny in his shot.

'Alright, Del?' Eric asks, biting his lip.

Dele extends his arm to touch that lip, the bottom one, to get Eric to stop hurting it, because it's too pretty to be hurt, but he catches himself in time, shakes his head to clear it.

'Alright,' he mumbles. He looks down, mesmerized by the water that's still running.

Eric turns the tap off. 'Wasteful,' he says, not without an apologetic smile that Dele catches through his reflection. He almost touches the reflection, too.

'Why don't you go back to your friends?' He turns to look at Eric fully, now, thinks that it's maybe a mistake. His hair is ruffled. Did that man touch him again?

Eric looks taken aback for a second. Then he lets it go, smiles again. 'What? The Swedish guys? They're really cool, come out and meet them.'

'Really cool? Is that guy with the beard _cool_ , too?' He can hear the bitterness in his voice, but he doesn't think he can stop it from getting out. He's not sure he cares, either.

Eric frowns at him. 'Nils? Yeah, he's cool.'

'Go back to him, then,' Dele says, sounding even worse than before. He goes back to looking at the tap, wondering if Eric would shout at him if he turned it on again.

'Del, what's gotten into you?' Eric sounds concerned instead of angry, and somehow that pisses Dele off even more.

'HE'S TRYING TO SHAG YOU!'

Eric looks at him in shock, mouth agape, as the door behind them opens and closes, and Dele leans ahead and hangs on to the tap for dear life.

Eric is being stupid, stupid, _stupid_. A man is trying to get in his pants and he's not turning him down. That's _dangerous_.

Too many beats pass until Eric moves close, close enough for his breath to tickle Dele's ear. 'I don't want him,' he whispers.

Dele snorts. 'Of course not. He's too ugly _,_ ' he says venomously. Almost as tall as Eric, Nils was, with a dark, long beard, and broad shoulders, and massive arms, and well styled hair, and -

Eric moves away from him abruptly. 'He's not ugly.' He crosses his arms over his chest.

The man that interrupted them gets out of his stall, rudely chooses to wash his hands, too. Dele has to whisper hiss. He doesn't think he's making a good job of it, but. 'He's a man, Dier. A man! Since when are you -'

'DON'T. SAY IT.' Eric shoots daggers at him with his eyes, as he moves aside for the pee-man to get out.

Dele wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, at the fact that Eric seems to like this koala person, this fucking Nils, until he realizes what Eric thought he was going to say and his blood freezes in his veins. 'I wasn't – Eric. I wasn't going to say -'. He tries to touch Eric but he flinches away, and does this mean he is – what? He is into guys?

Eric runs his hand through his hair, ruffles it even more. 'I thought -', he begins, but then another man interrupts them, stumbles inside a stall singing Rihanna at the top of his lungs. 'Never mind.'

Eric leaves him, and the man keeps singing, and then another one gets in. Dele stays there, clutching the sink, and men come and go, until at last someone shouts at him, 'malaka', and he seems to mean business, so Dele rushes out.

 

 

He knows exactly where Eric will be. With his new friends. With Nils, who is not ugly. Dele goes to the bar and he doesn't even glance in their direction, just gets another shot and downs it. A pretty woman tries to chat him up, but he doesn't respond. He turns his back on her, orders another shot, thinks.

Is Eric gay? He can't be. He might be bi though. Why hasn't he told Dele, then? A fresh wave of anger washes over him. Eric is supposed to be his _best friend_. But then, Eric did say he doesn't want this Nils. So maybe he's not bisexual, but he thought Dele was being homophobic. (He wasn't. Dele doesn't hate himself. He can't understand himself, most of the time, but he doesn't hate himself). Eric is a stand up lad, he would get mad at Dele if he was homophobic. Which he isn't.

Dele orders another shot, tequila this time, and decides to look for Eric. This whole thing has been a misunderstanding, there's no need to act like children about it. He spots the group easily.

The first thing he notices is that Eric is with them, just like he thought he would be. The second thing he notices is that he's holding two glasses of what looks like whiskey (does one of them belong to Nils?), and he looks annoyed. The third – Nils is trying to get closer to him and another friend, a blond one, is pulling him away and laughing.

Dele downs his shot. Eric catches his eye. Dele feels the world spin, the music too loud in his ears, the ground uneven and shaky. He thinks it's the bodies around him that keep him upright. He smiles at Eric.

Eric doesn't return the smile. His attention is on Nils again. Nils, who is trying to wrap his arm around his neck. Dele doesn't understand why he doesn't just leave, why he doesn't come to him.

_I don't want him._

That's what he said. What if he's too drunk to think clearly, though? Maybe he is being polite, and he doesn't want to hurt this guy, and he needs to be rescued.

Dele knows exactly the way to do that, so he stumbles to the group, ignores everyone else, and heads straight for Eric. He wraps _both_ arms around him and nuzzles his neck before Eric has the time to even register that he's there. 'Missed you,' he whispers in his ear, then wonders if he should say it louder, so that Nils can hear. So that Nils can know he's taken. 'Missed you,' he says again, louder, and Eric cranes his neck, looks into his eyes, and he looks incredulous. Pissed off, and incredulous.

The Swedish guys are saying something, but Dele doesn't pay attention. He's here to rescue Eric from Nils' clutches, and Eric will understand this, and be grateful, and they will leave very soon and go down to the beach and watch the stars in the sky and -

'Del,' Eric tries to disentangle himself from Dele's arms, but Dele clings harder and presses a kiss on his neck. Take _that_ , octopus panda koala Nils.

Eric tugs again though, hard, and Dele's forced to let go. He's met with a furious stare, and he thinks his insides might be turning into goo, currently. Alright, maybe they've been turning into goo for a long time. Eric stares some more, then seems to collect himself. He's probably not as drunk as Dele. He turns towards the other men, tugs Dele too, then says, 'this is Dele.'

Dele doesn't bother with anyone else, but he throws a withering stare at Nils, who reciprocates. Dele leans (stumbles) on Eric, points at him with his thumb, and shouts over the music, 'HIS BOYFRIEND.' Eric gasps behind him, moves so fast that Dele almost falls to the floor, but Eric keeps him upright and gets him moving towards the exit, bumping into angry patrons and shouting apologies as he goes.

 

 

The cool night air feels like a dream on Dele's skin, but Eric keeps him moving at a breakneck pace and he can't enjoy it. Eric finds an empty street, narrow and dark, such a cliché, and shoves him against a wall.

'WHAT THE FUCK?' he shouts. 

So, Dele kisses him.

Eric stumbles backwards and he crowds into him, pushes him against the opposite wall and kisses him hungrily, desperately, holding his head with both hands so he knows that he is for real, that he exists. He exists right here, right now, and Dele is kissing him. Eric lets him, for a heartbeat, for two, for three, but then he grabs his hands, pushes him backwards. It's physically painful to move away, Dele's heart feels like it might just hurtle out of his chest, and the way Eric looks at him makes his knees go weak. The world is blurring, moving, dancing, but Eric's eyes are steady. His eyes are steady and he's taking deep breaths and he's holding Dele's wrists like he's trying to cut off his circulation and he's searching for something inside Dele's irises, and then he's shoving him backwards and he's kissing him like he's never been kissed before.

He runs his hands through Dele's hair and he props his knee between his legs and he moves closer, closer, closer, his breaths tickle Dele's skin, his hands roam everywhere, his mouth sucks bruises into his throat, his neck, his collarbone.

As suddenly as he started, he jolts backwards, looks at Dele with guilt and regret, and Dele feels like maybe he needs to throw up.

'Del, you're drunk, I'm so sorry, I-'. His voice comes out panicked, and he's gulping for air, and Dele grabs for him and holds his hands in his hands and feels them shake and tremble and he smiles.

The world is spinning and Eric is stable.

'I love you,' he says, and it's the truth. It's the simplest truth in the world, and there's no use denying it, not anymore.

Eric looks at him. His hands are still trembling, but his expression changes – it's the Eric he knows, from his life and from his dreams. The Eric that smiles and the Eric that is there when the world is falling apart and the Eric that holds it up.

'Say this to me in the morning,' he pleads.

Dele rests his forehead on Eric's, caresses his palms with his thumbs.

'I will say it to you every morning,' he answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dele not noticing what Nils looks like but knowing exactly what he looks like was intentional.
> 
> Also, I adore this chapter/one shot. Hope you liked it, too ;)


End file.
